Magical and Muggle Misconceptions
by Queen of the Castle
Summary: Harry/Draco. In which Harry and Draco put their own spin on 'domesticity'.


Warnings: Sexual suggestiveness, implied kink, somewhat cracky snark.

Author's Notes: Written in response to the prompt: "Harry/Draco, in which they watch/discuss/whatever Doctor Who". All mockery contained herein is written with love.

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><p>"Potter, what is this Muggle rubbish?"<p>

"It's called a television," Harry said.

"I know that," Draco said irritably. Harry didn't believe him for a second. Draco had always made a point of boycotting everything electrical in Harry's flat whenever he came around. "I meant the picture that's _on_ the box. Look at that guy's hair. It's as ridiculous as yours is. Don't the Muggles teach their children about combs?"

"Sorry, but some of us aren't lucky enough to have a mother who _still_ grooms him every time she sees a hair out of place," Harry said.

"Oh, she does not," said Draco.

"She really does, actually," Harry insisted. "I've seen it and everything. She even tried to fix mine after the _Prophet_ ran that stupid story about us seeing each other. I thought the idea of her darling little boy dating someone so scruffy was going to make her have a conniption."

"Has Granger been teaching you the big words again?"

"Do you think you could lay off my vocabulary, just for once?"

"Shut up about my mother and I will."

"Fine."

They lapsed into the sort of tense silence that was so frequent for the two of them, given how much they fought. That didn't stop Draco from making faces at the television, though.

"Oh come on!" he finally exclaimed, as if he couldn't contain himself anymore. "Any idiot knows that time travel doesn't work that way."

"It's called fiction," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Since when doesn't that mean they don't have to do their research?"

"Hey, don't even try to tell me purebloods are any better," Harry said. "I've seen those 'Mad Muggle' comics. There's nothing even a little bit accurate about them."

"I wouldn't know." Draco looked down his pointy nose at Harry. "Only morons like your pet Weasley read those things."

"Um," Harry snickered, "you know that I've seen the massive stash of them boxed up in your cupboard, right?"

"Shut up, Potter. Say a word to anyone about that and I'll tell all your friends about your kinky porn collection."

"I don't have any porn," Harry protested.

"I know. Weird," Draco said. "But don't forget that I'm a brilliant liar."

Harry snorted dismissively.

Draco continued, "Also, there's the fact that you're with me. Your friends are already convinced that I've totally perverted you. They'll probably believe just about anything now."

Harry remembered how much he'd liked the fetish club Draco had taken him to that one time (oh, all right, _eight_ times, but it had been Draco's idea in every single one of those instances). He decided that maybe Draco had a point there after all.

"You know," Draco commented when Harry had remained silently embarrassed for long enough that Draco's short attention span apparently kicked in, "if I had the power to travel to anywhere in the whole universe at any time in history, I wouldn't go around saving people like this Doctor idiot does. What a waste."

"You surprise me," Harry said, deadpan. "I guess that's more like my gig. Actually, come to think of it, there's another character in this show you'd probably like a lot. He manages to take over the world every now and then and the Doctor has to step in and fix things. He's called the Master."

A sly look crossed Draco's face.

"No," Harry said immediately. "We're so not role-playing. There's no way I'm ever calling you 'Master'."

"Sure. That's what you say _now_."

The confident way he said it had Harry a little worried, actually. He knew how persistent Draco could be, and there was already some precedent for Harry letting Draco play around with a bit of private humiliation. He consoled himself with the fact that at least Draco would undoubtedly make sure Harry enjoyed it, even if he also lorded it over Harry for weeks afterwards.

Unexpectedly, Draco literally flailed in his seat. "Oh, for the love of– as if the rest of it wasn't bad enough, now there's a Weasley on the box as well. Isn't anywhere safe from them?"

"Just because she has red hair..." Harry said.

"And a big mouth, and apparently no class," Draco added. "I know a Weasley when I see one."

Harry sighed, giving up. He had no idea why he bothered arguing in the first place. He would have thought he'd have learned by now.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked as Harry stood up. "You're not leaving me here alone to watch this crap."

"I'm getting some Firewhiskey," Harry called back as he headed for the kitchen. "I've got a feeling I'm going to need it to be able to put up with you through what's coming up next."

"What's that?"

"This show called Merlin."

~FIN~


End file.
